Some Hearts
by Kmalfoy89
Summary: Modern Day EC.All Erik wanted was for Christine to sign his recording contract. All Christine wanted to do was dance. And Meg? Well, Meg just wanted to meddle in someone's life. But, of course, there's more than what meets the eyes. Tune in an find out!
1. Karaoke Night

**A/N:This is my first attempt at a POTO fic. I'm more of a Harry Potter writer. Let me know what you think!**

Disclaimer:I own nothing except for the plot and the last name Davies

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**_Some Hearts:Chapter One;Karaoke Night_**

Christine Davies put down her pencil and looked at the clock next to her. After realizing how late it was, the Juliard student started to worry. Her roommate, Meg Giry, had gone to the club that night and still had yet to return. Sighing, she grabbed her jacket, swung it on, and snuck out of her room.

"Ms. Davies! And where might you be headed to at this hour?" a stern voice asked.

Christine flinched and slowly turned around. "Ah...I was just..." her mind scrambled to find a feasible explanation,"...going for a walk. Yeah...to, you know, clear my head," she fumbled out, as her ballet mistress stood before her.

Antoinette Giry looked at her young student, her eyebrow raised. She knew full well that the 'walk' was to retrieve Meg from the club. "Please tell my daughter that I expect her ballet dancing to have as much passion as her club dancing," she said, walking past a very stunned Christine.

Christine watched her walk away and shook her head. "She's too god to fool, she mumbled and shut her door.

**

* * *

**

When she arrived at the club, which conveniently was a block away from the school, she realized that the chance of her finding Meg was very slim. The club was hosting it's very first karaoke night, that night of all nights. Sighing, she pulled open the door and got lost in the crowd.

After searching for a good 10 minutes, Christine finally spotted her friend's blonde mane. "Meg!" she yelled, the powerful voice a stranger to her body.

Meg Giry whipped around when she heard her name, a smile on her face. "Christine!" she exclaimed and wove her way through the crowd. "What are you doing here?" She asked, as someone on stage butchered _Sweet Home Alabama_.

Christine winced at the tone-deaf pitches and tried to talk above the music. "It's past 1, Meg. You said you'd be back at midnight."

Meg looked apologetic. "I know," she yelled back, "but I heard there was going to be an amazing singer tonight. And first prize is voice lessons and a recording contract."

Christine rolled her eyes. "You wanted to spend time with Greg," she said, waving to their DJ friend. "Anyways. How the hell would they find anyone in tune here?" she gestured to the massive amounts of slightly intoxicated people.

Meg smirked. She had known that Christine would come looking for her and had put her name in, making sure she'd be last. "There's only one contestant left. After her, we can leave," she stated, her body swaying to the music.

Christine sighed. "If we must," she answered, as Greg reclaimed his mic from someone who had clearly had about 5 too many.

"We've had some great tries tonight, but we still have time for one more contestant." Greg looked down at his clipboard, then back at the crowd. "Our final singer tonight, who happens to be a very good friend of mine, singing us a lovely tune by Carrie Underwood, will be Miss Christine Davies!"

If looks could kill, Meg would be dead and buried. "Meghan Eliana Giry...," Christine started, her eyes flaming.

Meg rolled her eyes. "You'll thank me later, Chris. Now go!" She shoved her friend into the crowd and followed.

Unbeknownst to Christine, a figure sat at one of the upper-level tables. Taking a sip of his _Guinness_, he trained his eyes on the fiery brunette. A smile graced his face, as the lights bounced off the half-mas that covered it.


	2. Before He Cheats

**A/N:Here's chapter two for y'all. Actually...i sorta combined chapters 2 _and_ 3, but only because they didn't seem right alone. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer:_I only own the plot, the name Davies, and Greg. The song 'Before He Cheats' belongs to the talented Carrie Underwood.

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_**

Christine grumbled as Greg pulled her on stage. Meg was _so_ dead. "I didn't put my name in, Greg. I'm a _dancer_, not a singer," she said, her pleas falling on deaf ears

Greg chuckled. "I'll be sure to have a dance contest sometime, princess," he replied, shoving a mic into her hand. "Go show them how it's done," he said, knowing that she could be a pretty phenomenal singer...when she wanted to be. "Okay, folks. Christine here says she can't sing; that she's only a simple dancer from Juliard. Let us be the judge of that, huh?" he pushed a button and the familiar song started.

Christine sighed and lifted her mic.

_-Right now_

_He's probably slow dancing with some bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably getting frisky_

_Right now _

_He's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot the whiskey_

_Right now_

_He's probably up behind her with a pool stick showing her how to shoot a combo_

_And he don't know..._

_That I dug my key into the side_

_Of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive_

_Carved_ _my name into_ _his leather seats_

_Took a Louisville Slugger to both headlights_

_Slashed a hole in all four tires_

_Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats-_

Meg watched Christine's transformation as the song went on. She went from dull to electrifying, as she moved around the stage with her ballet grace. "Go, Christine!" she yelled, as the song reached its climax.

_-I might have saved a little trouble for the next girl_

_Cause the next time that he cheats_

_Oh you know it won't be on me_

_end -_

The song ended and Christine wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her breathing heavy, she handed her mic back to Greg. "That was amazing," she breathed, as applause deafened her ears.

He smiled and handed her a folder. "It's not thought on our part, Chris. You most defiantly are the winner. Meg was right."

Her brows shot up. "Meg?" Now it was all starting to fall into place.

"Yeah. She told Erik that you would never pursue a singing career, so we set up this contest."

"Erik...? You set it up...?Greg, what's going on?" She was confused, to say the least.

Greg grabbed her arm and steered towards the VIP lounge stairs. "Erik Roberts is the founder of _Phantom Records_. He agreed to come out tonight and hear you. We staged this contest and knew you wouldn't resist."

Christine stopped walking. "You think I came here to join the contest? I came to get Meg."

Greg chuckled. "Of course, you did; It was all part of the plan. We knew that you'd come and get Meg, if she didn't show up by curfew." He continued to pull her up the stairs, only pausing when they reached their destination. "If you wanna but someone's balls, bust hers. She was the mastermind behind this," he said and shoved Christine through the open door.

* * *

Fuming, Christine waited till the door shut to give her friend an earful. "Meg-" she started, but was cut off by her friend.

"I know you're probably mad, Chris, but Erik really is interested," she said, handing her friend a bottle of water.

Christine took a swig and wiped the remaining sweat from her brow. "Meg...I'm not a singer. Dancing is my life; always has been. It's the same with you. We'll dance till we're too old, then we'll spend the rest of our days-"

"Teaching other young hopefuls," finished Meg, a roll to her eyes. "I know, Chris," she paused to fiddle with the hem of her tank top, "but I don't want to end up like my mother," she stated, her blue eyes laughing. "Dancing isn't the path your father wanted you to take," she murmured, instantly regretting her words.

Christine's chocolate eyes blinked back tears as she took a deep breath. "My fathers not around, now is he?" She turned to leave, only to walk into a firm, strong body. As she fell to the ground, many expletives left her mouth.

"Meg...you never told me how vulgar she was," the figure stated, offering the cursing teen a hand.

Christine grumbled as she was pulled to her feet. "I don't know who you think you are, but I'd rather not stick around to find out." She reached for the doorknob, only to have a strong hand cover hers.

"My name is Erik Roberts, Ms. Davies, and I'm quite sure I'd like to find out more about you."

The room was silent for a minute, then Christine wrenched her hand away from his. "Mr. Roberts...I don't care to be hit upon by complete strangers, especially mask wearing ones," she replied, elbowing him, slightly harder than she needed to, out from infront of the door. "I'll see you back at school, Meg," she threw over her shoulder and exited the room.

Meg suppressed a laugh, as she handed Erik a bottle of water. "Good show, brother dear. She doesn't get physical, unless she likes the guy."

Erik took the bottle, glaring at the blonde. "You never told me that she took defense lessons, " he mumbled, zipping up his jacket.

Meg let her laugh free. "You never asked." Linking her arm in his, she inquired, "Walk me back to school?" At his raised brow, she quickly answered, "Mama would like to see you."

Erik nodded, putting aside any of Meg's matchmaking notions. "You just want to tell her I got beat up by a girl."

Meg flashed him her innocent face. "Who, me?"

As they walked through the crowd, Erik reminded the girl of something," Remember...I'm not the one who called Antoinette an old maid."

Meg rounded on him. "I never said that, you brute," her eyes twinkling though.

Erik smiled; his first one since he had heard Christine sing. "But she doesn't know that, know does she?"


	3. A Story Time of Sorts

**_Disclaimer:I only own the plot, the name Davies, and any unknown things/characters.

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_**

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, waking Christine moments before her alarm clock went off. When the latter performed its annoying beeping, she coshed it with a nearby book and swore into her pillow. Something about that Erik Roberts had intrigued her; something _other_ than that mask.

"Looks like _someone_ isn't a morning person," a masculine voice stated.

Christine started and, with a muffled yelp, wound up kissing the lint-ridden carpet. After muttering some expletives, mostly Irish, she propped herself up un her elbows and glared at Erik. "And _what_, by chance, do you think gives you the right to just barge in here and wake a body up?" she demanded, her hands gesturing wildly.

Erik smirked down at her and offered a hand. "Antoinette gave me a key and wanted me to make sure the two of you were up," he answered, nodding at Meg's empty bed.

Shoving his hand aside, Christine helped herself up and grumbled. "Stupid bint," she mumbled, not really knowing if she meant Erik or Antoinette, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Meg appeared in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush in hand. "Did you just call my mother a bint again?" She realized who was in the room and smiled. "Oh. Hi, Erik," she greeted, her words muffled by the foam.

Christine glared at her. "Your little boy-toy here decided to add 'B&E' to his list of 'How can I get Chris Davies to hate me even more?'," she said and shoved past Meg into the bathroom.

Meg exchanged a glance with Erik, nearly spitting out her toothpaste. "Chris...he's _not_ my boy-toy. That's just gross."

Erik nodded. "Yeah. You see...she's my sister. And for your information, I did _not_ break in."

Christine came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "Sister? Meg's an only child. I know this because I lived with her for the past four years."

Meg ran into the bathroom and spit out her paste. "He's my brother; more like a father figure, but still my brother," she said, wiping at her mouth.

Christine eyed the pair of them. "Are you going to tell me that Antoinette had some affair with a 'tall, dark, and handsome' type?"

"That would be an interesting story to tell my grandchildren, Christine, but no," a voice answered, as another 'player' entered the game.

Erik grinned, a rare sight on his face. "Morning, Mum," he said, shooting a wink at Meg.

Christine turned and faced her teacher/surrogate mother. "The pair of them are mad. I don't think Meg should go clubbing anymore. She picks up the weirdest guys, enters me in a contest, _and_ gives them a key to our room."

Antoinette couldn't help but smile at the girl. "Christine. _I_ gave Erik the key; with specific instructions to bring you two coffee," she said, glancing at Erik.

He nodded towards the girls' end table. "I put it there so I wouldn't end up wearing it." He smirked. "I also picked up one for you, Mummy Dearest."

"If I wasn't a proper woman, in the presence of students and family, I would tell you to...what's the term? Shove it?...but that's just me," she said, taking the cup from him. She settled down on her daughter's bed, gesturing the other three to do the same, and began to tell her tale.

* * *

_"I once was a dancer at the _Opera Populaire_ in Paris. Dancing, like it is with you girls, was my life. Just days after being granted the principal dancing role in a ballet, I suffered a fall. Unfortunately, the fall did something to my leg and I could not perform up to the standards that my ballet mistress required of me. I left the company and ended up settling down with an Irish lad who was just passing through."_

"Woah. Wait a minute, Mama," Meg said, interrupting the feel of romance. "Dad was just passing through? You mean to tell me that you had a one night stand?!"

Christine looked at Erik. "Was she like this as a child too?"

He nodded. "I wanted to wring her neck many times."

Meg, who was sitting in between the two, elbowed them both. "I'm still sitting here, thanks."

A stern look from Antoinette quieted them. "It was not a one night stand, as your father and I were married within the next week. Now if the three of you don't shut-up, I'll add more to the girls' workload and take away your car keys Erik."

Erik stared at her. "You can't do that."

"Do you, or do you not, live in a house that I helped pay for, even though you are a big shot recording tycoon?"

"Wow. She's really strict on him, huh?" Christine whispered to Meg."

Meg nodded. "Yeah. I used to get away with more than him. Mama really does love him, though."

After they got settled again, Antoinette picked up her tale.

_"As I was saying, your father was just a lad passing through. I was a serving girl at the local pub, and I guess you could say that we'd hit it off. I had been offered a multitude of jobs to teach dancing, but declined, due to being in the 'family way.'_ Erik Samuel Roberts, wipe that smirk off your face this instant."

Christine sighed. "Something tells me that we'll never finish the story." She reached behind her, under her pillow, and produced the folder that had been presented to her the night before. When the other three gave her a look, she explained, "I wanted to sleep on it. Anyways. I still don't know _why_ I should sign."

Antoinette stood up. "I need to prepare for this morning. I'll see you three later," she said and left the room.

Meg, sensing her mother's plan, stood up as well. "I promised Jen that I'd meet her for breakfast." After kissing Erik's's unmasked cheek, she said to Christine, "I'll see you in warm-ups. Try not to kill each other."

Christine glared after her and sighed. "This is their way of telling me to go for it."

Erik sipped his coffee and looked at the girl. "Christine. I was basically re-raised by that woman. I run an honest business."

She nodded. "I just don't want to push aside my dancing. I've dreamt of Juliard, since I was a little girl. I worked my butt off for the audition and the full scholarship I received. I don't want to lose that."

Erik studied the girl before him. Meg had informed him of the loss of Christine's's parents, but he didn't know the details. "Tell me about your parents."

Christine, who had not been expecting this, stiffened. "Buy me breakfast and I just might tell you," she said, throwing on her slippers. Dear God, was she _flirting_ with him? "I have an hour until warm-ups."

Erik nodded and stood. "Sounds like a plan." Was she _flirting_ with him?

As the two walked down the hall, the same thought was on their minds; why had Erik's's mask not come up in conversation?

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**_A/N:So yeah...a bit more of attitude from Christine. It just seemed natural for her to be guarded when it came to Erik._**

**_Hope you liked it!_**


	4. A Small Journey to the Past

**_Disclaimer:I own nothing but the plot and any unknown names/surnames. Ironically, the name 'Davies' can be found in the 1989 film, but I didn't realize this until I watched it this weekend. Sara Johnson and any other _Save The Last Dance_ references belong to MTV and all those cool cats. _Save The Last Dance 2_ was my only insight to Juliard, so I used it._**

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"So. What do you wanna know?" Christine asked when they settled down at a cafeteria table.

Erik stirred creamer into his coffee, then put the stirrer on a napkin. "Tell me about them. Who were they? What did they do?"

'How did they die?' Christine finished in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she brought up the many ghosts of so long ago.

"_My father was Charles Davies, an Irish lad. Yes, _the_ Charles Davies. Playing in pubs was the way he made a living. His best friend was Shawn Giry, Antoinette's future husband. The pair of them traveled all over Europe, ending up in a small pub in Paris. Charles played the fiddle, while Shawn moved between piano and the squeeze box. It was at that pub that Charles met Marin Hoyt. Marin was a serving girl, a local girl. She had become fast friends with the newest server, Antoinette, and would always joke around with the girl. Charles and Shawn frequented the pub for at least a week, before their intentions were known. One night, while the pair were doing their normal act, Marin decided to add her voice to the familiar songs. Not wanting to be left out, Antoinette put down her tray and did a quick jig for the lads. It was that night, some say, that love was found for two couples."_

Christine paused in her tale, taking a bite of her apple. "Look, I've got to go get ready for warm-ups. But me lunch and we can continue?" she asked with a small grin.

This girl sure knew how to milk it. "Sounds good," he answered, with one of his rare smiles. "Where should I meet you?" he inquired, as the girl stood.

"I have warm-ups, then ballet with Antoinette. After that I have hip-hop with Sara Johnson."

Erik nodded."I'll meet you by Sara's room, then. I have one question before you go," he stated, reaching for her hand.

To some, when she turned back to him, she was just another young hopeful like them. But to Erik, as sun streamed in behind her and framed her outline, she looked like an angel; _His_ angel.

"Yes?" she answered, her head tilted slightly at the gesture.

"Why haven't you asked about my mask?" His eyes held hers and he rested his chin on his hand.

With a smile, she righted her posture and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Because, people are allowed to hide from their past, if they see need to." She slung her bag onto her shoulder and took back her hand from his. "I'll see you at lunch." With that, she turned and walked away.

Erik watched her leave, a small smile still on his face. 'Now, if I could just get her to sign the damn contract,' he thought. The smile slowly faded, when he realized what was on the table; a CD that was clearly of some importance to her dancing. "_Máiréd Nesbitt_," he read off the cover, then flipped it over. The young artist was clearly a fiddle player, most likely Irish. His frown grew deeper, as he noticed a sticker next to a track titled _The Butterfly_. This song must be of some importance, so he went back to the girls' room and popped the disc into the stereo.

After listening for a while, Erik realized that the track was in an almost hip-hop style. He racked his brain for reasons Christine would need this, before settling on one. 'Sara mentioned some sort of expo at the club next week. This must be Christine's routine music,' he thought, and removed the disc from the player. "I'm just going to have to return this," he stated, and went in search of a schedule.

* * *

Sara Johnson looked at her student and sighed. "Christine. You'll never get that CD back if you left it in the cafeteria."

Christine nodded. "I know, Miss J. I'll try and order another one by the end of the week." Inwardly, Christine was smacking herself. How could she have been so stupid enough to leave the CD on the table?

Sara placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder and smiled. "At least it wasn't your toe-shoes. Antoinette would've murdered you if you had lost them."

With a small smile, Christine nodded. "I just wish I hadn't been distracted at breakfast. That's the only reason I forgot it."

Sara raised a brow at her student. "And what, exactly, could distract you enough to forget your routine CD?"

"That, quite possibly, could be my fault," Erik said, stepping out of the shadows of the classroom. The two girls turned and looked at him, both wearing equal expressions of surprise. "I found this on the table, and figured that you might need it," he said, holding out the CD.

Christine was so happy, that she could've kissed him. But she didn't, of course. That would've just been stupid. "Thank you so much. It would've taken a good week to get it replaced," she said, taking the CD from him. As she did so, their fingers brushed slightly. A little pink in the cheeks, Christine pulled away with the CD. "Th-thanks," she stumbled out and turned away.

"How much longer are you going to interrupt my class, Roberts?" Sara asked, a small smirk on her face. When Sara had been a ballet student at Juliard, Erik had been a vocal student. If not for Miles, Sara very well could've fallen for Erik.

"When you finally own up and tell Antoinette that _you_ were the one who got Meg that fake ID, Johnson. She's somehow convinced that _I_ was the one who got it," he said, casting a glance at a stretching Meg.

Sara rolled her eyes. "_That's_ what this is all about?"

Christine, who had been silently watching this exchange, spoke up. "Hey. Can we work on my routine, Miss J?" she asked, wondering how the two knew each other.

With a smile, Sara nodded and whispered to Erik, "Stick around and watch her dance. You'll see why she's afraid to sign your contract." She turned and walked over to her student. "You have one week until the Expo. You want to show them that your not just another wanna-be, right? This is you chance to show the world that you are who _you_ want to be." Sara popped the CD into the player. "Show me what you've got, Chris."

Christine nodded and the music started. Combining tap, jazz, a tiny bit of ballet, and Irish step she launched into her routine.

Erik stood next to Sara, in awe. "She moves like a prima ballerina, but her heart is not in it; I can tell."

Sara nodded. "Did she tell you about her parents?" Her eyes never left her student.

"She started to, but she had to go get ready for warm-ups," he answered, his mind in jumbles. Christine was obviously hiding something from him.

Sara smirked, nodding her head to the music. "Then I'll only tell you this: She's only doing ballet, because it's what they made her think they wanted. Hip-hop is her only outlet away from that world." As the music ended, she walked away from Erik.

Erik sighed. He was no closer to getting the contract signed. Taking Sara's words into consideration, he waited for Christine to finish up.

* * *

**_A/N:Let me start by saying that the fiddle player mentioned in this chapter is an amazing musician. She is part of the group titled Celtic Woman and simply amazes me. Ok...my reasoning for using Sara, if you've seen the second movie, should be clear. Sara knows what it's like to have to choose between things. Anyways...lots of conflict, yelling(mostly Meg), and other characters to come in the next chapter. So...go review!_**


	5. A Lost Love and Friendship

**_Disclaimer:It hasn't changed. You all know the drill. And any song lyric used is obviously property of ALW_**

**A/N:A quick warning...this story is flashback central. I had two, but they evolved into larger scenarios. If you don't like flashbacks, too bad. I'm a fan of them. Enjoy!**

* * *

"You looked like a natural," Erik said as soon as they were seated again in the cafeteria.

Christine took a bite of her sandwich and smiled. "Thanks. Miss J is a great teacher."

Erik nodded. "Indeed, she is." He studied the girl before him. What secrets did those eyes hide from him? "How did you end up with Antoinette?" he asked, hating himself for changing the subject. Never in his years with the woman, did he remember her taking in a young girl. Yet, at the same time, something in the back of his mind was telling him that he already knew about the girl.

Christine was silent, then took a deep breath. "Meg and I, like our parents, were the best of friends. When the pair of them moved here, we worked out a schedule. We would fly to New York every February break, and them to Paris every April. Four years after they moved, I was scheduled to fly in February for the first time by myself. My parents were staying behind, due to a gig that had been set up for them. I didn't learn until my second day with the Girys that my parents had been in an accident. In their rush to get from the airport to the opera house, their car slid off an icy road and into a tree."

Erik's facade crumbled, as he took in her teary eyes. Something about those damned eyes caused memories to come flooding back to him._

* * *

"Erik. This is my best friend Chris. She's staying with us for the week," a twelve-year old Meg informed his sixteen-year old self._

_Erik looked at the girl, then turned back to his piano. "Cool. Just don't touch my piano. If I find any finger prints on it, I'll Punjab you."_

_Meg laughed and nudged her friend. "He doesn't mean it. That just means he's got a crush on you."_

_Christine smiled and turned to leave with Meg, taking one last glance at the teen boy. "It's was nice to meet you, Erik."__

* * *

"Erik. I need you to come home now. There's been an accident with Chris' parents. I'm afraid...they didn't make it. I need you to watch the girls while I make the...arrangements," a solemn Antoinette told a nineteen-year old Erik over the phone, begging him to leave Juliard during his winter break._

_"Antoinette...I need to work out some kinks on my opera that I've been working on. Can't you get a neighbor to watch them?" a stubborn Erik asked, not wanting to waste his time with a couple of fifteen-year olds._

_"Erik," she started firmly, "the poor girl has lost her parents. She has no one to care for her. I need to fly to Paris and make the arrangements. When everything is set I will send for the three of you. For once in your life, think of something other than your music!"_

_Erik sighed. He knew what it was like to have no one there for you. "Alright. I'll be home by 10 at the latest."__

* * *

"Erik?" a fifteen-year old Christine asked, as she padded into the dim music room._

_Erik looked up from his work and gave the girl a small smile. "Nightmares again?" he asked, as the girl trudged over to him. Ever since she had heard the news, Christine had been plagued by nightmares of her parents' death."_

_She nodded and sat next to him on the bench, never touching the bench. "I miss them so much," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek._

_He brushed it away and wrapped an arm around her. If someone had walked into the room, they would've deemed Erik a crazy man. He was not normally one to show affection, but he seemed to have a connection with the young girl. "None of that," he said tilting her chin up. "We can't have your pretty eyes marred, now can we?" he said, letting some feeling slip past his rock-solid barrier._

_Christine have him a weak smile and bit her lip. "Erik?"_

_He looked at her, sensing something in her tone. "Yes, dear."_

_"Can you teach me how to sing?" she asked pointing at the piece of music he had been working on._

_Erik smiled and nodded. He turned to his music, but something made him turn back to her. In the few days since the deaths, he had watched Christine grow up; emotionally and physically. When the girl first started visiting, he could've cared less about her. But now? Now he felt something stirring inside of him. "Chris?" he asked, then watched her take her eyes off his music. "I have a question."_

_Christine smiled. "And I might just have an answer."_

_Taking a deep breath, he met her lips with his. After a few seconds or so, he pulled back. "What would you say, if I did that?"_

_Christine blushed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well...seeing as how you already did it, I can't say no. But I _can_ kiss you back," saying this, she softly pulled his head down and kissed him._

_After a minute or two, they pulled apart. "So..uh...lets get some singing started, "Erik said, running a hand through his hair._

_Christine laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. "How's this piece sound?" she asked, not familiar with the tune._

_Erik started to play and sing the male part, Christine joining in later. After that night, the two were inseparable. Never once in their short relationship did Christine ask about the mask._

* * *

"Erik? Are you okay?" Christine asked, waving a hand infront of his face. 

Erik blinked and his eyes grew wide. "_No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide...eyed..._" he trailed off, as a stunned Christine stared at him.

"How...who..what are you playing at?" she asked, her lip quivering. Even though she couldn't recall knowing that song, something inside of her was aching form it. Without waiting for an answer, she fled the room and left a helpless Erik watching after her.

* * *

One hour later, Erik found himself at the wrath of one Megan Eliana Giry. 

"What the hell did you do to Chris'?! She missed the ballet lecture and you _know_ that she would never do that!"

Erik stared down at his glass of scotch. "I remembered her, Meg," he said in a quiet tone.

Meg sighed and sat on the arm of his chair. "You were the love of her life, or so she thought. You would never open up to her."

"She was only 15, damnit! What was I supposed to do? There was no way I could give her the life she needed." He slammed his glass down on the table.

"She just wanted to sing. It was all she ever wanted to do, not dance. You gave her that chance then, and you still can _now_," Meg said, laying a hand on his arm.

Erik shook his head. "She wanted her parents. She wanted something that I could never replace! I had to leave before she had realized how stupid she had been!" he yelled.

Meg, used to these outbursts, didn't budge. "All she wanted from you was love. She finally had someone to care, and you left," she said, leaving the room.

Silence would not be found in the room. As soon as Meg left, Sara came charging into the room.

"Erik Samuel Roberts! What did you do to that poor child?!"

Erik ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Are you all lined up outside, waiting to have a go at me?"

"I have a crying girl in my office, and all you can do is joke?!" Sara was outraged, to say the least. Christine had come stumbling into her office, mumbling Erik's's name. Not being able to get anything out of the girl, she had decided to go to the root of the problem.

Erik refilled his glass. "You wouldn't understand it, Sara. She blamed herself for her parents' death. If she hadn't insisted on flying to New York, they wouldn't have been in a rush. I was just trying to help her cope."

Sara's eyes darkened. "The only reason I'm not beating you to a bloody pulp, is that Antoinette probably wants the honor of that." she turned on her heel, but stopped before she left the room. "And next time you want to tell me that I don't understand her, remember that _I_ was the one who wanted her mother at her Juliard audition. I wanted her there so bad, she got into a car accident. Maybe you'll remember that next time, if you're not too deep into yourself."

Erik sighed as she left. Miles was going to kill him, when he found out that he had made Sara cry. Taking another sip of his drink, he watched the pendulum in the clock swing.

Not surprisingly, his door slammed open. "If you weren't twenty-three years-old, I most likely would tan your hide," Antoinette declared, her eyes burning into his. "What did you do to the girl?" she demanded, grabbing the glass from him.

Erik's looked up at her, his eyes slightly glassy. "I remembered her, okay? She was the one memory I tried my hardest to forget about, yet I still remembered her. And, stupidly, I made the mistake of seeing if she remembered me too."

She frowned down at him. "You were young, and so was she. The pair of you didn't think. And then you just up and disappeared!"

Erik clenched his fist. "I was nineteen. I knew better. I had to leave before she realized the mistake she had made."

Antoinette raised a brow. I was only talking about her falling in love with you. Why do I feel as if something else transpired?" she asked, her knowing eyes gazing at him.

His jaw twitched. He knew he was in deep trouble. "Why doesn't she remember me?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

She sighed. There was no way to make him feel any worse than he already did. "After you left, she stayed in her room for days. She wouldn't go to school or out with Meg. The only way we could help was to take her to a hypnotist." At her own words, Antoinette winced.

Erik's eyes darkened. "Why would you do that to her?"

Antoinette stood firm. "It's not like _you_ were doing anything to help. You left without leaving a word of goodbye and, next thing we knew, your name was tied to a record label."

Erik stood up."She was fifteen, and I nineteen! What else was I supposed to do?! I ruined her and she didn't realize. I was too bull-headed to stop myself before anything happened! I couldn't replace her parents, nor could I give her the love she needed."

"So you felt it better to just disappear? Erik, as stupid as she may have been, she loved you. That was the only true thing she knew at that point." Antoinette turned to leave the room. "It was your mask, wasn't it? You didn't want to open up to her. She _never_ asked any questions, yet that wasn't enough for you. You wouldn't let her love you." With that, she left the room.

Erik stared out the window. She was right, really. He hadn't wanted to open up to her, so he shoved her away. He didn't believe that anyone was capable of loving him for the person that he was. "_Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you_," he whispered, as a tear slid down his unmasked cheek.


	6. The Truth Unfolds

Disclaimer:The usual. I own nothing except for your minds...well...sorta.

**A/N:Before I start, I just want to thank the few of you that have been reviewing. It really makes me happy to see reviews in my in-box. Also...I handwrite everything first, so that is why it takes me a while to update. This chapter, in fact, barely matches what I have written down. When i re-type things, I tend to make alot of changes.**

**Ok...I, in no way, approve of young teenagers having sex. The thought of it disgusts me, but I felt it was needed in this story to help add emotion. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Christine sat, a blank expression on her face as she stared out the window. Who was he and how did he know that song? Better yet..._why_ was that song so familiar? 

A knock on the door stopped any further thought. 'Chris? I'm coming in," Meg said, walking into the room. At the sight of her friend's blood-shot eyes, she rushed over and pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Christine. We never meant for this to happen."

"Meg. Who the hell is he and why did that damn song sound so familiar?" Christine asked, her question muffled by Meg's sweater.

Meg sighed. She may have only been 15 when the whole mess happened, but she had noticed the definite change in Christine's personality. "Chris. If you want me to tell you the truth, you must promise not to get mad at Mama or I." Meg waited for her friend's nod, before beginning the tale.

"Ok. Remember how we had that vacation schedule? Well...the first time you flew out to New York, you met my adoptive brother. I know you don't remember him, but I'll explain that later. My brother was 4 years older than us and didn't really care to hang around with 'children.' So that went on for about 2 or 3 years. The year your parents died, Mama asked him to come home from school, _this_ school, to keep an eye on us. He sacrificed so much in those few weeks, Chris. He had the most amazing voice ever. Anyways...I noticed the two of you were spending more time together. He seemed caring for once in his life. You used to have nightmare and he would be right there to comfort you. That's all I thought it was; comfort. Only after something happened, did I realize it was so much more than that. It was love, Chris. The two of you had fallen in love."

Christine stared at her friend. "Meg. What are you talking about? All I remember is shutting myself in our room. I'm quite sure that I would remember something like falling in love."

Meg toyed with the comforter on the bed, uncomfortable. They could only keep it a secret for so long. "Yeah...about that. Um...we took you to a hypnotist." She braced herself for Christine's reaction.

Christine just blinked at her. "W-what?"

Meg nodded. "After a month, my brother just disappeared; no note or anything. _He_ was the reason you locked yourself in the room, Chris. The hypnotist was the only way we could help you. She was able to make you forget any memories you had with Er-him," Meg said, nearly slipping up and revealing the identity.

Christine, though, was able to put two-and-two together. Jaw set, she asked. "Exactly how many boys did your mother take in, Meg?"

"One," Meg answered quietly, biting her lip.

Grimly, Christine nodded. Grabbing the folder from under her pillow, she said, "If you'll excuse me, I have a business matter to attend to."

* * *

Erik sat at his desk, staring at his blank computer screen. Ever since his realization, the memories kept bombarding him. "How did I forget her?" he asked aloud, sighing. 

"Did they hunt you down and take you to a hypnotist, too?" a voice asked, causing Erik to whip around in his chair.

There was no emotion on his face, as he looked at the girl, no...woman, standing before him. "Hello, Christine. Can't say that I was expecting you to drop in."

Christine's expression was rock firm. "Your door was open, so I let myself in. I believe these papers are yours," she said, tossing the folder down by his feet.

His eyes never left hers, as he bent down to get the folder. "Look. If I could go back in time, I would change everything. But that won't-"

"When do we start?" Christine cut him off, a small smirk turning the corner of her mouth.

Confused, Erik cocked his head to the side. "What are you talking about?" he asked, ignoring the bead of sweat that formed on his forehead.

Christine crossed the room and stood before him. "I signed the papers. That was what you all wanted, right? You were all in this together. As if I haven't gone through enough in my life, the three of you decided to throw this massive curve-ball at me." Her lip started to tremble, but her facade didn't change.

Erik opened the folder and looked at her loopy signature. "Christine. I can honestly say that I had no part in this. Meg sent me a tape of your singing and told me to come to the club and listen to you. She never mentioned your..._our _past."

She nodded. "I figured as much. As much as I love her, Meg is too nosy for her own good. But she means well. Only a few people know that my true passion is for singing. My father was an instrumentalist, my mother a dancer...but I truly loved to sing. When they died, I felt that dancing was my last tie to them."

Erik sighed and ran a hand through his jet-black hair. "You don't have to do this, if you don't want to. I didn't mean to start any trouble between you and the Girys"

Christine offered him a small smile. "There isn't a day with those two, that doesn't involve trouble."

Erik stood up, his 6' 1" frame towering over her 5' 5" one. "Christine...I promise that I will never hurt you again."

Christine gazed up at him. "Just answer one thing. Did you love me?"

Erik turned his gaze away from her. How could he explain it to her? He couldn't do it 4 years ago, and now was no different. "Christine...what you and I had, it was complicated."

Christine reached up, her hand grazing his masked cheek, and turned his face to meet her gaze. "I've been through hell in the past 4 years. My parents died, my first...well..._second_ boyfriend, I guess, broke up with me because he said I was lying to him. And now..._this_. If you think I won't understand, think again."

Not meaning to, Erik brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Why did he say you were lying?" he asked, curious.

Inwardly, she cursed herself. She hadn't meant to bring up Raoul, but it just slipped out. "We dated for a almost 2 years. After a year together, we decided we were ready for a commitment. We began to be more...intimate." She stopped, not able to look Erik in the eyes.

Erik's jaw was clenched. He couldn't bear to think of anyone with _his_ Christine. "Please...continue," he pleaded, turning her head back to face him.

Christine gazed into his blue eyes and sighed. "He was my first love, I told him, and I was ready for us to take that next step. So...we did it."

Erik cringed at her bluntness, but did not turn away from her. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with you supposedly lying to him?"

She focused on a spot to the left of his head and sighed. "It didn't hurt our first time. Raoul was, or I believed that he was, my first. I had no way to explain it, but to say that the barrier must've deteriorated by itself. Something like that isn't too uncommon."

Erik nodded, understanding what she was talking about. "And I'm guessing our young fellow didn't except that?"

Christine smiled a bit. "Actually, he did. His father was this big-shot doctor, so Raoul knew more than enough about the female body."

Erik sat, still confused. "Then why didn't he believe you?"

She pulled up a chair and sat next to him. "Seem his name wasn't the only one I would call out."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Good God, woman. I just wanted a simple explanation, not some trashy romance novel."

Christine arched a brow. "And you know about trashy romance novels...how?"

He glared at her. "Continue. Who's name, if you don't mind my asking, did you call out?" he asked, even though something in the pit of his stomach was telling him that he already knew.

She placed a hand on his knee and leaned closer to him. "I didn't know until now...but it was yours."

* * *

**A/N: I know...I know. It's a semi-cliffhanger and you all hate them. Be happy i added that last sentence. I could've left you hanging even more, though i'm quite sure you all are smart enough to figure the answer out on your own. **

**So yeah...our first mention of Raoul in the story. I have to say that i truly hated writing him in, but it was needed. Still trying to figure out if i want him to have an appearence in the flesh...er...text...or not. **

Next up:Erik and Chris talk a bit more and plan a rehearsal schedule. Be cautious...there might be one or two scheming Girys in the near future.


End file.
